Changing Tides
by neo-jackal
Summary: Vulpes had to start somewhere, the Courier had to start somewhere too. While the Courier is trying to figure out who she is, from knowing nothing about herself, she finds herself being lured into the Legion. A certain Frumentarii caught her eye, as did she in his eye.


**A/N: **I plan for this story to be a fairly long one. It starts off with Vulpes past and carries on until after New Vegas. The main pairing is Vulpes x Female Courier, although there may be hints of other pairings. It'll switch POV from Vulpes to the Courier.

The first chapter is the prologue

* * *

"_PILE BODY UPON BODY"_

* * *

On top of one of the local Utah hills, it was already nightfall where a boy sat by the camp fire, who despite his 12 years of age still remained unnamed 'officially' by his uncaring parents. None of his tribe would have predicted that the smallest of the member entire tribe would one day become somebody so important in the fate of the Mohave. This boy would one day be feared by the name of Vulpes Inculta.

The boy had been nicknamed 'Runt' by the tribe's other children for his smaller size. For he was at the bottom of the pecking order, he had the least to eat in the tribe, only the left over scraps.

The tribe which Runt belonged to, had been long situated on the outskirts of Utah and was unremarkable in the grand history of wastelands. The tribe took deceitful and savage nature. They were small for a tribe and therefore were not able to take food by brutal force, instead took cunning methods of conning caravans and trapping wildlife.

Runt despised his tribe. He sat by the campfire, scowling at the other members eating their fill while he patiently waited for his turn. He was much scrawnier than the rest and fairly short, hence how he gained his 'name'. Half of the tribe were high on drugs, the other half was either passed out or trying to pass out on alcohol. They had no morals and Runt was disgusted at their behaviour. He differed from the rest. He tended to spend his free time learning to read, as the rest could not, they had never needed to, or bothered to, however he remained mostly illiterate, despite his efforts.

Runt watched as the last of the tonight's food had been finished. It was another day he'd just have to miss out. He rolled his eyes, he may as well catch his own. He got up and left into the night's darkness.

It wasn't long before he'd located a fox, unaware of his presence. Foxes were clever and were hard to catch, but it was likely that was the only prey he'd come across that night. He thought up a quick plan in order to catch it and swiftly followed it through, leaving the fox no chance of escape. Within minutes the fox was caught and killed. However, he'd been so fixated on the fox he hadn't noticed the sound of feet behind him.

Suddenly someone's manly hands held his shoulders from behind.

"Nice kill." The man said. Runt wriggled himself out of his loose grasp and turned to see who his mysterious captor was. He looked to be in his 20s and he was not alone. A small group of equipped men stood before him, resembling that of a roman soldier.

"Who are you?" Runt questioned him. The man chuckled.

"I am Lucius and I speak for Caesar." He answered. Runt's eyes widened, even his tribe had heard of Caesar. "We know who you are, no need to introduce yourself, Runt." He stated.

"I'm not Runt." He muttered under his breath. "Have you been following me?" He spoke up.

"Your tribe to be exact. It stands in Caesar's way. Your tribe will and cannot exist by sunrise." He said expecting a reaction from the boy.

"Good riddance." The kid said much to Lucius' surprise, causing him to smile at the kid. This kid would be a benefit to the legion.

"You carry much promise. Join us, and we will obliterate your tribe." He boldly placed his hand on the kid's shoulder.

The kid looked into Lucius' eyes. "Gladly." He said without hesitation.

"Pile body upon body."

* * *

He'd lead the small Legion of men to the secret passage behind his tribe. Before long the tribe was in utter chaos.

Every last man and woman lay dead on the floor but two of them. Runt's parents.

"The time has come to prove your loyalty to Caesar." Lucius pointed at the whimpering parents, who were bound up. Lucius handed Runt his machete. Runt looked down at them with death in his glare. "Runt! Please! No!" His father yelled. "Runt! I'm your mother for god's sake!" His mother cried.

"I am _not_ runt." He smirked and took the machete. In one swift blow his parents lay there, limb and lifeless in the puddle of their own blood. Some of the warm blood had splattered onto the kid's face and clothes. His expression turned pokerfaced. He took a step back as his eyes drank in the sight. He had wanted this for so long, yet deep down it scared him. What he was capable of. The fact that it had been so easy to kill his family and let everyone he had ever known, die.

He looked up at Lucius. He stood there smiling at him. He handed the machete to Lucius. "No. Keep it. You've earned it, Vulpes." Lucius passed it back down Runt.

"Vulpes?" The kid questioned.

"Vulpes Inculta." Lucius crouched down to Vulpes' height. "That will be your name. It means 'Wild Fox'."

* * *

Lucius had a soft spot for Vulpes and soon became a father-like figure to Vulpes and fully taught him how to read. Vulpes trained and worked hard, he was a quick learner. Lucius was promoted to Leader of the Praetorian Guard and was highly respected among all of Legion, including Caesar himself. With Vulpes it very quickly became evident that Lucius had found talented youngster. He was made a Legionary at 17 years old and he became fiercely loyal to Caesar's Legion and without mercy or a tint of doubt he performed his job to the best of his ability and achieved the goals asked of him regardless of the situation.

He was promoted to Decanus on his 18th birthday. He became respected and admired among his fellow legionnaires. He proved his worth time and time again. He was highly skilled in combat, his superior intelligence more than made up for what he lacked in physical strength in comparison to other Decani. He took into consideration the individual different strengths of his squad and put them to good use, he cared about every last legionary in his unit. They would have to trust him in order to work at their full potential.

At first it was a challenge to earn a lot of his recruits' respect, due to the fact that most his recruits were actually older and larger than him. He soon proved to them that he was worthy and when anyone outside the squad were to make fun of Vulpes, the squad would fiercely defend their Decanus. Vulpes studied hard in his free time medicine books. That way he could make better judgement in battle on the different medical states his men were in and more effectively be able to patch them up. He gave his men brief lessons on what to do in case of an injury, and why not to 'just let an injury be' after a battle, for it may cause infection, thus rendering the man unfit for battle. Vulpes was wise, he thought everything through and never left any of his squad, including himself, to be a hole in their defence. His entire squad worked like a well-oiled engine because of Vulpes.

On a mission to take out large and menacing tribe, his Centurion had commanded that Vulpes and his small legion of men perform a frontal assault on the tribe. But arriving on scene, he became aware that it would not be the most effective method, and would likely mean the death of more men than necessary and he went against his Centurion's orders, something no one ever did in the Legion. It was a sign of disrespect.

He had come up with a genius tactical manoeuvre, which was unheard of inside and outside of the legion, to which his platoon of men followed him through with it flawlessly, where Vulpes had figured out the tribe's weakness in defence and redirected the squad to that defence hole. The tribe was then taken with ease. No Legion casualties and all the tribe's women were left unharmed, in perfect condition to be captured for slavery but most notably they captured the tribe's large chieftain. Any which way you look at it, it was a grand victory for Caesar's Legion. However in their return, Vulpes reported in to his Centurion who upon finding out that Vulpes had directly disrespected him in disobeying his explicit orders, he took the case to Caesar himself.

Lucius bit his lip, it was not his place to vouch for Vulpes. He watched as the Centurion made his case, explaining in detail what had happened, with Vulpes standing on the other side. Caesar said nothing, just listened intently to the Centurion's point.

"I demand this young INEXPERIENCED and DISRESPECTIVE Decanus, be CRUCIFIED. An example needs to be made of those who disobey!" The Centurion declared. Vulpes expression was unreadable. Underneath Vulpes could feel his heart racing. He had done what he figured was best, he had lead them to a victory. Now he was going to face death. He focused hard on not letting any of the Praetorians see his fear, but most importantly, not to let Caesar see. He noticed Lucius standing behind Caesar. He felt small comfort in seeing him, however he didn't miss the unease in his expression. Lucius knew he was not going to be alive for much longer too. Would he visit him, when he was strung up on the crucifix? Or would he be too ashamed him? He quickly chased away that line of thoughts and focused back onto his presentation. He made sure his back was straight and he came across as dignified.

"No." Caesar said. The Centurion removed his helmet in disbelief. Vulpes subconsciously held his breath.

"What do you mean by 'no', my Lord?" Vulpes' Centurion asked with confusion.

"No, this Decanus will not be crucified. He shall be appointed to the Frumentarii" Vulpes' eyes unintentionally widened for a second before he regained control of his pokerface and let go of his breath. At that moment, Vulpes had figured out what kind of a man Caesar was. Vulpes smirked underneath his pride. His centurion wanted him to be killed, but under his very nose, he was promoted to a rank far more respectable than the centurion. He was amused at the poetic justice. He glanced over at Lucius. He could see the surprise in his face, mixed with relief as well pride.

"My Lord- surely you can be serious! He must be made as an example!" The centurion restated.

"You question my decision?" Caesar growled at him. To which the previously bold Centurion held his tongue and shook his head. "My sincerest Apologies, Caesar." He apologised.

"I will not let you down." Vulpes declared and looked Caesar in the eye.

"I am glad to hear it. It'll be good to put your talents to better use. I am interested to see what you are capable of, Vulpes Inculta." Caesar finished and signalled that the meeting was over and that they could now leave his tent.

Vulpes excelled in the Frumentarii and was the mastermind behind many of the Legion's greatest plots, it was no surprise when he was soon appointed the leader of the Frumentarii. It was Vulpes Inculta that was responsible for the pacification of the notorious tribe, 'The Twisted Hairs' at Dry Wells and ended the Legion's campaign in Arizona. The last of the Twisted Hairs that remained were crucified down the sides of the interstate 40.

* * *

A few years passed. Now at the age of 25, everyone in the Legion knew him, he was Caesar's right hand man. He was highly respected and Caesar turned to him directly for advice. Most of Caesar's plans were thought by Vulpes.

Vulpes' fame and glory was no longer limited to the inside of the Legion. People from far and wide knew tales of Vulpes' most astonishing victories. They feared him. Fear was a form of respect, people respected the legion, for they feared their power and what they were capable of.

Only five years ago had been the battle for Hoover Dam. Where the Joshua Graham had met the end of his luck. Vulpes respected Joshua, he was a calm and calculated man, had the Legion been passed down to him, the Legion's legacy would have thrived but due to the horrendous defeat in Boulder City, much of his respect in and out the legion had fallen. He was replaced by Legate Lanis. Lanis was a monster; no man was more feared than Lanis.

However, if the Legion were to be passed down to him; it would surely crumble. He was pure muscle, blindly following orders. Then Caesar started to get terrible headaches and as time passed, they only proved to be more disturbingly severe.

Discretely Vulpes commanded that the Frumentarii collect all the books on medicine as they could find. He tirelessly looked into it, only to confirm Vulpes' fears, that Caesar had a brain tumour. If Caesar were to pass away, Vulpes' whole world would crumble. The only way to save Caesar was through surgery.

None of the Legion had the knowledge to do this correctly, not even Vulpes. If done slightly wrong, it would be the end of Caesar. It had to be done perfectly. They couldn't get a doctor from outside the Legion. It would spread that the Legion has a weakness and their tireless efforts of demoralising the enemy may be wasted. The only auto-doc they could obtain was broken and they lacked the means to fix it.

Vulpes needed to cement fear into the NCR. As right now; the odds were not in their hands for the long run. He couldn't tell how much longer Caesar had, so he had to act quickly. Vulpes had already destroyed Searchlight, allowing access to Cottonwood Cove with ease. He'd also installed Dead Sea at Nelson, who was performing his duties well. It wasn't enough though. The NCR still clutched onto their hope. They still felt they had a chance and that they were safe.

He'd have to take out a city from right under noses, do something bold. Show them that the Legion felt no fear, that they were so confident of victory and that they had the upper-hand. Even though in reality Vulpes feared the Legion's bleak future.

Vulpes looked at the map, which was spread across the table in his private tent. He rested his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. The clear choice was Nipton. He had his Frumentarii look into Nipton as well as a few other places that may have been a possible choice.

The people of Nipton knew no respect. They were rotten to the core, no honour or anything. They'd serve as the perfect target. As much as he disliked Lanius. He'd take a couple of his tricks and use them. No one instilled fear like Lanius did.

When the plan was passed onto Caesar is was approved, which was expected anyway, Caesar always approved of his choices and trusted him. He hadn't been out on field for a while, he'd go to Nipton with a few Legionaries a few canines to help instil the fear factor. Upon briefing the team, he realised that a few of them were part of his team back when he was a Decanus; Exchanging a few fond memories and notions.

They arrived on the outskirts of Nipton within 3 days as they were provided with safe passage due to the destruction of Searchlight. The peril of Nipton fell upon the city within a few hours, they were all caught and bought to the town hall. They were not going to simply slaughter the men and women of Nipton. They were going to provide a show, to really make people pass on the message of horror of what happened here in Nipton that night. The Lottery was going to be played.

The lottery was a simple idea, using old Lottery tickets which were easily scavenagible in the New Vegas wastes if you knew where to look.

One man would witness the horror and live to tell the tale. Most likely was to run crying to the NCR. The citizens of Nipton, all crude and disgusting; Reminded him of his old tribe. They all clutched onto their lottery ticket tightly, praying to who or whatever they believed in would see that they were the worthy one of surviving. He couldn't help but to laugh. There was some irony to this situation, much of the population here were Powder Gangers, ex-prisoners of the NCR, yet they'd probably go to them and expect help- and the NCR would even probably help them. They were pathetic, just the day before had they shown off their might- claiming that nothing scared them. Trading with scum and not caring what consequences would become of their actions who may be hurt, they'd trade their own children if they could. They were drug-addicts and alcoholics, they claimed they didn't give a damn about dying or living, it was just surviving. Yet here they trembled, thinking that they didn't deserve it.

The smell of smoke was strong from the fires that had been set on the buildings, bushes and anything they could find to burn. It wasn't hard, they lived in the Mohave Desert and it was all dry, therefore easily set alight. The fire was the only light in the dark that night.

He went up the steps of the town hall. His stage. He smirked seeing the terror in their eyes as they sobbed. It was going perfectly.

"Everyone understands the rules, and everyone has their ticket. There will be three people that won't get strung onto a crucifix." He reached for a Lottery ticket. "4. Number 4, would you please stand up?" A man stood up, his face was dirtied and his eyes were bloodshot.

"I'm… going to live?" He stuttered. Vulpes said nothing just smirked. Then the next second the man's blood was sprayed across the ground, some of it reaching the other citizens, speckling upon their mortified faces. A Legionary had just shot him in the head.

"You said he was going to live!" Cried out a woman. "I said 3 people weren't going to be crucified." Vulpes correctly smugly while a Legionary kicked her to put her back in her place.

"Next number is… 39!" He called out. A black man stood up, sporting a frown to hide the fact that he was shivering. He was a Powder ganger Vulpes noticed. "Tell me, what do you do for a living, number 39?" He questioned.

"I man the store. I'm not afraid of you." He spat. Vulpes nodded, as if it provided him with an idea. "You know what, you'll live to man that store again." He said. 39's scowl turned to a face of hope and confusion.

Vulpes stepped down the stairs to the man, while drawing out his beloved Ripper. "Hold him." He commanded his legionaries. Swiftly they moved into place and held him tightly, the man just froze with fright. Vulpes placed the ripper on the side of 39's left leg. Then slowly began to grind through the flesh and bone. The blood splashed generously, accompanied by the screams and cries of the Powder Ganger. Vulpes blinked as he felt the warm blood spit onto his face and gush onto his hands and then the leg detached completely, and fell to the ground. The man being held up-right continued to shriek with agonising pain. "Calm yourself, Profligate. Not finished yet." He muttered in his ear before continuing to do the same on the other leg. Vulpes briefly glanced at the people of Nipton. Their eyes all wide with shock and horror, all spangled with specks of blood varying in size. "Take him to his store. Place him comfortably at his till." He ordered the Legionaries holding him. The man just cursed and spat among his yelling but then the façade cracked, and the man began to sob. "Such disrespect. Your life is spared, you should be thanking me." Vulpes teased.

"They were runner ups. Now for the grand price. Freedom. No catches." Vulpes announced before reaching for another ticket. "Huh. 7. Lucky 7." Declared with interest.

"No! No!" A man cried realising that it was his number. The Legionnaires grabbed him and dragged him to the centre. Vulpes cut his hand bonds. "Congratulations, Profligate. You just won the lottery. Everyone else will be crucified."

"I won? I won THE Lottery?" The man cried with joy and got up and fled. Desperately pushing the people of Nipton, who were being picked out and dragged to their crucifixes, out his way. Vulpes shook his head. So little loyalty to the town, number 7 was a coward. Exactly as he hoped, as a coward would run begging for help and spread the word. Unfortunately, this man was unstable. And he was a powder ganger and there was no guarantee that he'd even pass on the horrors he witnessed. There was now a probability that his time there was wasted.

The people were very quickly strung up on to their crosses, with little protest. They made little noise now too, they were too exhausted from struggling and they had now lost all hope. Vulpes would now wait few hours or so and hope that a traveller or merchant would come by or something. Maybe then, someone suitable would come along, and ensure the message is passed directly into the NCR's every waking moment.


End file.
